Fine

How I felt at the time…

Fine.

How I feel now…

Fine.

My story…

I don’t think about my abortion very much. I’m very conscious of the fact that I’ve had one, and that somehow lumps me into one category rather than another, but I never feel an emotional connection to my abortion, or the child that would’ve existed if I hadn’t chosen abortion. Then recently, a friend emailed me and told me that several days ago she went back to the gynecologist’s office where we both had our abortions performed. She said, for some reason or another, that this time, instead of taking her to the examination room, they took her to the back room, where they perform the abortions. She couldn’t bear being there- she said she wanted to lash out, destroy the room, destroy the people in it and run out without getting her parking validated.

What I didn’t tell her is that I had been back to that room since my abortion, that I had sat on the examination table, my feet in the stirrups, and pleasantly chitchatted with the doctor. I knew it was the same room, and I had remembered everything that occured in it, but it just didn’t affect me. Just like I felt after my abortion, I couldn’t pretend to be sad, or grieving. I couldn’t pretend to be anything except really what I was- pissed that I made a mistake that took a toll on my body, pissed that I had to lie about it to the people in my life, and pissed that there was an element of shame present that there shouldn’t have been.

I’m sure I’ll come off as being heartless or something, but it’s just the truth. I wouldn’t choose to have an abortion, and I don’t want to have another abortion, but I had one, and I’m fine with it. And I know that’s just me. Everyone’s different. But for me, it’s as simple as the fact that, for whatever reason- lack of sex education, negligence, whatever- I got pregnant and had to have an abortion.